Morning in Dijon
This balcony was wrought
Of fine iron of a man's thought.
In the street the noise
Begins of schoolward lagging boys.
Upon the bed she sleeps
And the dark sheet my imprint keeps.
I followed my desire.
And am refined in the sun's fire.
Of fine iron of a man's thought.
In the street the noise
Begins of schoolward lagging boys.
Upon the bed she sleeps
And the dark sheet my imprint keeps.
I followed my desire.
And am refined in the sun's fire.
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